A Promise Once Forgotten
by Witty Teacup
Summary: After moving into his old home, Arthur meets the ghost who now resides there. Unable to move on, Arthur has vowed to help him. But, as he searches through the old memories, he'll remember some of his own, while piecing together a promise once forgotten.
1. Of Promises and The Glum Beginning

_**A/n: Story went under some MAJOR, MAJOR construction. I didn't like how it began to play out, or how I wrote it. The plotline is the same, but it was altered only slightly, and I'm rewriting everything ever written on this. Even the title changed! So yes, this story was formally called **__**Don't Forget**__** but after realizing I had planned a story that sounded way to similar to that title, I renamed it, **__**A Promise Once Forgotten**__** that I feel suits the story much, much better. So, without further ado, please enjoy the new prologue of **__**A Promise Once Forgotten**__**!  
**_

* * *

_Ever since little Arthur moved in, Alfred had taken one look and loved him. The way he talked, the way he blushed, his green eyes, and even his big eyebrows. Alfred found him absolutely adorable, and he knew, that they were going to be special. _

_ So, he befriended the young boy quickly, practically forcing his way into the other's life. At first, little Arthur wanted nothing to do with the little American, but slowly he found himself missing his presence when he wasn't around. The boys hastily went from friends, to best friends. One almost never wanted to be without the other. It was sweet. They played together, told each other each and every worry that ever went through their small minds, they even shared deep and darks secrets they told no one else, not even their family. They made a promise one day, a promise to never, ever lie or keep a secret that's bothering them. _

_ That's where, the tragic story of these two really begins. Arthur himself had fallen in love with his new friend. This was a secret that was bothering him, and it went against their promise. Therefore, the seven-year old had no choice but to admit it to him. There were at the swing set when he confessed. _

_ "H…hey Alfred?" _

_ The other boy looked over at him and smiled. _

_ "Yes Artie?" _

_ "I…I um…I really, really like you…" he stuttered nervously. _

_ "Well I like you too Arthur!" _

_ "No! I mean…I really…I love you!" _

_ Alfred continued to smile. _

_ "I know, I mean, I love you too!" _

_ Arthur felt as if that was the best thing he'd ever heard. He looked over to him, but the American was already off the swing in front of the other. He held out his arms. _

_ "I love you a lot," Alfred said sweetly. _

_ Arthur wrapped his arms around the other boy. The two embraced. _

_ "You're my damsel, I'm the hero. Together, we can ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after." _

_ "Yes…we can." _

_ "So let's get married!" _

_ The little Brit was most certainly struck dumb by the question. _

_ "You know, like how our moms and dads do!" _

_ "B…but aren't we too small?" _

_ The taller blond had a look on his face that seemed that thought had just occurred to him. But he shook it off. _

_ "Then a promise it will be! We'll make a promise, and when we're old enough, we'll get married!" he proclaimed, and Arthur agreed. _

_ "Promise?" he held out his pinky. _

_ "Promise!" the other smiled, intertwining his pinky with Arthur's. _

_ Their promise was sealed, and happy as they were, it was all about to come crashing down. _

_~~Nine Years Later~~_

_Arthur angrily, upon hearing the call from Alfred's brother Matthew, slammed his phone shut. Alfred, **his **Alfred, was in the hospital. Matthew wouldn't tell him why, or what happened, but he just told him to get to the hospital **immediately. **_

_The Brit quickly started his car, eager to figure just what was going on. He pulled out a little more recklessly than he'd intended, but he honestly didn't care. _

_ Arthur parked his car and raced inside, looking for any familiar face, preferably the one of Matthew. When he couldn't find him, he demanded the front desk to tell him where Alfred was. _

_ "Are you family?" _

_ The question was reasonable, and it seemed as if that were his only option. _

_ "Yes, I'm his cousin." _

_ "If you go up the stairs, he's in the third room on the left. Best wishes." _

_ Arthur made his way up, both angry and terrified of what he might find. Upon entry, he saw the brother pacing back and forth, looking quite nervous. His parents were not in sight. _

_ "Matthew! Tell me what is going on this __**instant**__!" Arthur shrieked at him. _

_ "Please…please don't make me tell you, please. Just…hope he can tell you himself," came his response. _

_ The English boy didn't understand, and was about to argue when his parents came out of the door, looking somber and mournful. It made his heart sink. They saw Arthur and Mrs. Jones looked as if she were going to burst into tears. _

_ "What's going on? Someone tell me!" Arthur shouted, unable to contain his suspicions of the unknown any longer. _

_ Mr. Jones shook his head, and handed him a letter. The blond took it. It said, __**'Iggy' **__in Alfred's best penmanship from what he could tell. Something deep in the crevices of his mind knew this was going to be rough. Tentatively, he opened the seal. _

_**To My Dearest and Most Beloved Arthur, **_

_** If you are reading this letter, allow me to apologize before I even begin. I deeply and sincerely say I'm sorry I've passed on. I never, ever wanted you to have to be reading this, but it appears to be the inevitable. But allow me this, don't you ever think for one second I didn't love you. Every precious moment I had with you was enough to make me love you even more. I've always loved you, from the first day we met, from the first minute I laid my eyes on you. I'll miss your sweet smile, your adorable blush, and your cute accent, even your eyebrows. I think, however, what I'll regret most about being gone, is that I'll never be able to keep the promise, **__our__** promise,**__**the one we'd planned for. It makes me ache every time I think about it because I know you were looking forward to it. **_

_** In spite of all this, my passing was of no accident. You see, I was diagnosed with a certain cancer at the age of five, the year I met you. I was scared, not knowing when I was going to die, or how long I was going to live. I prayed every night for the next day to come, wishing and wishing. And when I met you, Arthur, I began to think that was a sign to tell me that I was going to live a little longer. To be honest, I didn't even think sixteen was going to ever come. I guess, though, there's only so far I could've gone. **_

_** I don't ever want you to think any of this is your fault. Because it's not. There's no way in any form that it could've been. I never told you because I never wanted you to worry; I just wanted you to stay by my side until my last breath. You made me the happiest teen alive, and I thanked God every day I was standing beside you, holding your hand, telling you how much I loved you. **_

_** Please, please, don't cry. I can't bear it if you cry. Or if you do, please don't make it last. Cry once, and let it be done. A million tears won't bring me back. But Arthur, for me, make me once, last promise. Live life, love, and enjoy, be happy, and never, ever let go. Don't let go until you've done everything you've ever wanted. And who knows when, but someday, under some sunny sky, we'll meet again. **_

_** With All My Love, and Forever Your Hero,**_

_** Alfred F. Jones**_

_Arthur hadn't realized it until he'd finished but tears were pouring out of his eyes and streaming down his cheeks. His heart thumped inside of his chest, from melancholy and angst. Why? Why did he have to be the one to go? His chest was ready to burst from the broad array of emotions spilling into him. _

_ "Alfred…oh…Alfred why?" he managed. Matthew tenderly embraced him. _

_ "I know…I know. I'm sorry…it's going to be okay…shh…" _

_ The Brit proceeded to just let everything out, and the Canadian brother accepted it whole-heartedly, knowing that this was hard for each and every one of them. Mrs. Jones was crying into the shoulder of her husband, who was trying not to cry himself. _

_ The funeral for Alfred F. Jones was a few days later. It wasn't a large ceremony, only a select few people came, one of which was Arthur. He'd brought a bouquet of Marigolds, for he'd always loved their sunny color. After more tears were shed, and when the end drew near, another vow was made. _

_ "I won't forget you Alfred…" _

_ But little did he know, his word was in vain, eight years later…  
_

* * *

**So, it's kind of the same. As I said above, this is an old story being fixed. It got on my nerves and I didn't like the way it was playing out. So, I completed it mentally. Don't worry though, this will not stop me from updating Enchanted Meetings by any means. I'll kind of juggle them around a bit. **

**-IchigoMelon  
**


	2. Moving In and Unexpected Guests

Twenty-three year old Arthur Kirkland grinned broadly as his eyes fell on a particular home. It was still here, after all these years, it was still here! He almost couldn't contain his excitement.

It had been eight years; eight long, aggravatingly long years since he'd been here. Eight years ago, he'd been living happily in this house at the ripe, young age of sixteen. But, about a year later, he'd moved away to London where he'd been born. It wasn't as if it angered him, but he had a connection with this house, and it was good to see it still intact. And for sale no less! He would soon be in his old home once more.

This town held so many memories for him, both fond and not. So many things had changed in eight years, but yet some remained the same. The little bakery was still in business, and the little toy store too, though, now the little library had been torn down. But even in that perk of melancholy, one thing lit up his return; the old playground was present in its old spot on the edge of town. He loved that little playground dearly; for his most fond memoirs were held there.

Remembrance of two boys clouded his head, playing on the swing together, sharing secrets untold by everyone else, two little boys, making fortresses of sand and stone, two little boys sitting on the jungle gym, one sobbing from the death of his mother, the other comforting, and two boys running, tackling one another in a burst of cheer and laughter.

Arthur smiled lightly, those were the days where he knew how to laugh and be carefree. Those were the days when there was no worry of bills and life. Those were the days in which he really knew how to cherish every moment he had.

Still, there left the hanging suspense of what had happened to that little boy. He frowned, searching through every crevice of his mind to learn the truth. He knew something had happened to him, yet…he couldn't even recall the face or name of him. It was like at every photo he looked at, he could only remember his face, and the other was blank.

After musing old thoughts, he'd called up and discussed about buying the house. He was overjoyed when he heard the price of the place. It was so affordable; it was almost to great to be true. He couldn't wait to get settled in. He came in the next day and signed all the papers necessary and put down a payment on it, and it was as good as his. His things were sent over, and he began to unpack.

Old books and antiques from home were placed on dusted shelves and stands alike. Furniture he knew and loved were placed and moved. Sweeping and renovations were completed, and before Arthur knew it, he felt just cozy.

During the events of the day, Arthur sat down with a warm cup of Earl Grey tea while sitting down on his favorite chair to read one of his favorite books. He flipped on a lamp to see in the now darkened house. He had been reading for about ten minutes when the light suddenly flipped off. Arthur stared at the lamp in confusion. He waited a moment before turning it back on. He stared, and nodded in satisfaction as it stayed lit and he continued. Again, however, the lights were flipped off. Arthur let out a small groan of irritation before switching it back into it's working mode. His eyes left the object again to continue with the words on the pages when yet again it became dark.

"Bloody hell!" he screamed, aggravated.

Without another thought, he set the book down in the chair and trudged up the stairs, tired and ready to sleep away his frustration.

Arthur brushed his teeth, and dawned his pajamas and curled up into his bed. He pulled the comfortable, familiar sheets overtop him, and before he knew it, he had drifted off into a wispy, dreamful sleep.

He awoke later, but not to the morning gleam. A loud clatter was heard downstairs, and Arthur's eyes shot up instantly, alert and alarmed. He sat up and strained to hear for another sound, but heard nothing. The Brit pulled back the covers and took a deep breath before stepping onto the cool wooden floor.

Arthur sprinted skillfully down the stairs in haste, grabbing the closest thing near him to defend himself if the need arises. An umbrella happened to be that thing. He clenched its handle tightly, and headed towards the kitchen. Easing the door open, his emerald eyes scanned the surroundings and saw nothing. He frowned, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Carefully, he stepped in, and saw the source of the noise.

Pots and pans were strewn about the floor, toppled over as if they were picked threw. Arthur knelt down and set his makeshift weapon beside him, lifting one of the cooking wares into his hands. He set it back onto the counter along with the others. Who would break into his house to toss his utensils everywhere? Unless they were looking for something, but what could they be looking for in a kitchen?

Wary still, Arthur proceeded to the dining area. His eyes darted around, and saw nothing. Not even a sign that someone had been there. The Brit sighed, lowering the umbrella. It was probably just an accident. Even so, he continued to the halls.

Barren walls were all he saw, so after making it to the end, he turned around. Maybe he was just tired, he concluded. Or rather, he was being too cautious. Though, it irked him. What had caused them to fall? His question was answered upon return to the dining room.

There, now, at the table, sat a boy. His hair was a pale, golden color, with a piece sticking straight out from the rest. His eyes were a sparkling hue of cerulean, and his skin was a warm, tan color. But yet there was something odd about him. He looked to be translucent, see through. He drummed his fingers in a rhythmic pattern on the table. He couldn't have been older than fifteen or sixteen.

Arthur stared at him blankly, words failing him. The boy didn't notice him at first, but after the Brit dropped his umbrella, he looked up, shocked.

They held eye contact, green clashing with blue. One pair of eyes held confusion and bewilderment, and the other held fear and wonder.

"C-can you see me…?" the boy mumbled, breaking the awkward silence.

"A-am I not supposed to?" Arthur replied, unsure.

"N-no…"

"So…what do you want me to do?"

"Um…"

The boy paused, and swallowed, "Pretend you didn't see me…?"

"Not a chance."

The boy pouted, "You're a jerk."

"And you're an intruder. Get out of my house before I call the police!"

The boy looked offended. He puffed out his cheeks and glared.

"_Your _house? I don't think so!"

Arthur was appalled at this boy's behavior, "I think so! I legally bought this house yesterday!"

He frowned, face falling, "W…what?"

"I recently moved in here. I bought the house yesterday."

He looked shocked, and sad.

"No way…no way…"

Arthur frowned, "Was this house important to you?"

"I…I don't know. I've…I've always felt connected to this house. It's like…it feels like I used to come here a lot."

"Used to?"

The blond pursed his lips, "Come on, you can't tell me you actually think I'm alive!"

"Well to be completely honest-"

"Wow dude, that's just sad."

"Get. Out."

"Excuse me?"

Arthur put his hands on his hips, his eyebrows furrowed into an irritated scowl.

"Listen here lad, I don't care if you're dead or alive. I want you out of my house this very second!" he commanded.

The boy wore an expression of sadness, as he looked down.

"I…I can't leave. I can't move on just yet…I can't," he murmured helplessly.

"Why? Young man, what is keeping you here?"

Then the boy gazed him straight in the eyes, sullen and heartbroken. Confusion mixed with anger and discomfort.

"A long time ago…I made a promise to someone…someone I hold very near and dear to my heart. Yet…I can't…I can't remember the promise I made. And I can't pass on until I apologize for breaking that promise. I can't even remember the boy I made it to. I'm tied to this house and I don't know why. And I can't help but wonder, was this his house? Or is it mine? Are there clues in this house that will lead me to him? I just…don't know."

Arthur felt his heart sink. He looked…as if he were in so much pain. Whether it is from breaking a promise or from his binding to the Earth, he wasn't sure. He couldn't just…kick him out could he?

"Now…listen. If that's really how it is then…well…I guess I don't mind you staying here…"

His face lit up, "Really?"

"Yes, however, I have a question. Was it you who turned off my lamp and threw out my cooking ware?"

"Ha…funny story about that. You see, the lamp made me angry so I kept shutting it off, and the pots? Um…well I was hoping I would find something that would help me remember in there, but when it clattered really loud I ran because I didn't want you to come down. But it looks like you did anyway…"

"Indeed…" Arthur stated, but then added, "Now what's your name? I can't just keep calling you 'boy' or 'lad'."

"Oh! It's Alfred!" Alfred smiled warmly.

"Alfred…" the Brit tested it out on his tongue. Why did it feel so familiar to him?

"What about you dude?"

"Arthur, Arthur Kirkland."

Alfred stifled a giggle, "That sounds so old."

The older blond frowned in annoyance.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't make fun of my name, _Alfred_."

"How about I call you Artie? That doesn't sound so old."

"Absolutely not. Now, I'm going to return to bed. If I hear any more noise…" he threatened before turning around.

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry."

Arthur sighed and walked back up the stairs. So _this _was why no one wanted the house. There was an obnoxious American ghost haunting the place. Though, he couldn't really be angry with him honestly. After all, it's not his fault he can't remember. Still, he slid under the covers of his bed, but nothing could erase the familiar connection he felt with him.

Maybe that's why he had dreams about the friend he couldn't remember

* * *

**No, this isn't the new promised story. The new promised story will be a Germany X Italy. This is a story I'll be re-updating when time allows. Formerly titled "Don't Forget" **

**-IchigoMelon**


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